


Would You Date Me?

by makingitwork



Series: Who Can Take the Sunshine [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Fae Stiles, Fairy Stiles, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Possessive Derek, Protective Derek, Scent Marking, Sexual Tension, Single Parent Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 04:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14036169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: So, they've kissed.Derek just has to decide what to do now.





	Would You Date Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> MISS YOU AND LOVE YOU!
> 
> Enjoy!

After their syrupy first kiss on a sun-lit day in late Fall, Derek doesn't really know how to... _progress._

It had been warm, and right and just this side of perfect, and they'd melted into each other just as the syrup had melted into the buttery pancakes. 

But for all its wonder, it had been a brief moment. After Isabella had launched upstairs to get her favourite breakfast-eating-shoes (maybe Derek has to buy her a pair of slippers), their lips had met with a little oomf of surprise on both sides. As though neither could believe it was actually happening in spite of all the signs that had been around from the day they met. Stiles' lips had been pink and soft against his own, he'd smelt safe, like pack with a topping of magic.

Derek had just been reaching a hand to curl around the nape of Stiles' neck, to feel that soft dark hair between his fingers-

When Isabella had come galloping back downstairs wearing fairy shoes in honour of Stiles. 

So yeah...Derek doesn't know how to progress. 

It seems like they never quite get another opportunity to continue and so Derek doesn't really know what they are. He knows what he wants them to be, and he knows that Stiles cares about him and Izzy, but they've never even been on an actual date. He contemplates calling Laura but then quickly shuts the idea down. But he...doesn't really have anyone else and the thought saddens him. He's never yearned for friends, he has Isabella and now he has Stiles- or does he- it's so confusing and Derek sinks his head into his hands when an intelligent knock breaks through his mood. 

His daughter is standing in a bumble-bee dress, complete with matching headband, eyes curious and far too knowing. "Are you thinking about Stiles, daddy?" She asks, but she already knows the answer. 

"I don't know what to do." He whispers back, a little brokenly, and she runs to him, wrapping her little arms around his broad chest. He suddenly feels like a terrible father. Is this what it's come to? Discussing his relationship troubles with his five year old daughter? Being so completely head-over-heels for a guy that he's lost his cool?

"Yes you do." Isabella rolls her eyes, poking at his scruff. "I want a fairy, you want a fairy. Stiles  _is_ a fairy."

He wants to know if she knows what it means. He wants to know that she knows that if he starts dating Stiles...he wouldn't want to ever stop. Which means she'll have a brand new part of her life and it might be too much for her. "Sweetheart," he says softly "it's a little more complicated than that." He hasn't so much as even looked at a person that way since Jennifer left.

She sighs, patting his forehead like a wise old woman. "Daddy," she repeats, mocking his voice a little "you make it much more comp'cated than that. You like Stiles, I like Stiles, Stiles likes us. Let's get a Stiles!" Her excitement, however, doesn't seem to be offering him any reprieve, so she frowns a little harder, thinking. "Cinderella has a fairy god mother," she tries, and Derek humours her with a fond look. "Her fairy god mother protects her, like Stiles will protect us. And in Game of Thrones, wolves protect-"

"You're watching Game of Thrones?" Derek yelps, appalled

" _No."_ She scoffs, as though the idea is preposterous "it doesn't have enough colour like  _My Little Pony_ has. But Stiles says that the wolves in that show protect people. Like we protect Stiles, right?" She wolfs out a little, fur replacing a few tufts of her hair and she's panting a little when she's done, red faced and adorable with exertion. Derek's smiling but there's something in his eyes that looks sad. Isabella hedges her bets and touches his nose "does Stiles remind you of my mom?"

 _Jesus._ "No!" Derek calls, and then immediately looks contrite. He doesn't want to sound horrible when talking about Jennifer, he doesn't want Isabella to hate her biological mother, doesn't want to savage any chance of a relationship that might exist there someday. Even though Izzy's never shown even the barest inclination towards it, and Laura and Peter have always been so openly judgemental towards Jennifer's choices in front of her. "No," he says, softer. "Izzy, baby," he shakes his head "this is more than protection. Stiles would...I want him to be a part of my life, but you are my life, and so he'd be a part of yours too. And I want you to understand that this doesn't mean he's your dad or anything like that, or that I love you any less-"

She rolls her eyes. "Daddy," she begins, light-hearted but serious, steel laced with cuteness "listen! I  _want_ Stiles in my life. He's not you, you're my daddy. And he didn't give birth to me so he's not my bio'm'logical mom, but he's my  _Stiles._ My fairy! And I'm his she-wolf. He always says so." She crosses her arms smugly, as if to say  _I'm his she-wolf and not you._ Derek feels a little jealous. 

"Are you sure?" He whispers, holding her close and she sighs again. 

"Daddy," she shakes her head with feeling "Auntie Laura's right. You can be very dense."

 

And thus, courage is given. 

With his daughter's blessing and a surer heart, Derek has a new mission. He's going to kiss Stiles again.

He never said it was a brilliant mission, but small steps. Besides, at least it will be a very enjoyable mission. 

If he ever completes it, that is. 

And so far, the mission is not a success. In spite of his daughter's blessing, Derek isn't going to start making out with Stiles in front of her, and it's not like Isabella isn't always around the house. So he decides to capture the perfect opportunity: Isabella's in school, Derek's managed to take a longer lunch break, and he drives over to Stiles' house where the fairy had said he would be relaxing for most of the day. Well, actually, he had said 'chill-axing' but Derek refuses to accept that. 

He knocks politely, his mother's manners left him well trained, and admires the small front garden. The Sheriff lives in a town house, so it isn't very large, but there are flowers in perfect patterns around the perimeter and a vine of grapes that hedges up the wall and towards the front door. There's a small clove of flowers below the door light, that smells very very strongly of hyacinths. It's a little overwhelming, and Derek's heart swells up as he realises something new. 

Stiles has been doing all the gardening and flower work at Hale house but it never accosts the senses, even with the ever-blooming daffodils and lavenders. He must be gentling their scent so as not to offend werewolf tendencies. He's so thoughtful, he's so-

"It's open!"

Stupid. 

He's a little bit stupid. Derek rolls his eyes, and steps into the house. Because, really? This is the Sheriff's house, with a lot of confidential information and Stiles doesn't even bother to lock the door? Derek feels a spike of protectiveness curl up through his chest; what if something happened to him? Would Stiles be able to fend them off? Maybe- probably- but what if he got hurt trying to do so? What if he couldn't?

"Shouldn't you at least check who it is before calling that?" He asks, about to step inside, but then suddenly Stiles is at the doorway. 

"Derek," he breathes, like a caress. He leans against the door, eyes sparkling and face a little flushed "You're here- I- thought maybe you wanted some space-"

He leans down, can't help himself, not with the way Stiles' mouth moves or the glint of his amber orbs or the pitter-patter sound of his rabbit-racing heart. He does an internal victory dance when Stiles relaxes into him, so they're kissing softly, hungrily in the door way. It's different this time, no sugar to hide the taste of magic and Stiles' lips part and Derek puts a large hand on the small of his back to tug him closer and the fairy is gasping, pulling away a little. 

 _"Goddamn,"_ he murmurs, eyes on Derek's lips "I frickin' love it when you do that."

And then they're kissing again and Stiles has his hands light and feathery on Derek's chest, and Derek wants to continue, but he has to know, so he wrenches himself away. Stiles looks pink and dishevelled and positively edible. "Love it when I do what?" He pants, and Stiles' frown of dismay at their parting lessens. 

"Your  _hands._ Goddamn, your hands, they're so..." he shivers, and Derek can feel it all down his body "they're so fucking perfect. On my back- my neck, it's like, like I'm  _yours_ you know and it's so fucking hot-" he's kissing Derek again, getting all worked up but Derek's a little speechless and so Stiles decides to pepper his neck with butterfly kisses that make Derek's toes curl. 

Oh god, he's getting hard. In public. In front of the Sheriff's house. From  _kissing._ He's a grown man! He's about to coax Stiles back into the house when he freezes. 

He can hear the Sheriff around the corner of the road, he's talking to someone about whether or not he should head home. 

"Your dad's on his way back," Derek says, and smiles at Stiles' look of dismay. "Or at least he might be. Either way, should I-"

"Definitely." Stiles nods, shooing Derek back into his camaro. "It's not that I'm ashamed of you! It's just that he'll want to meet you and become really cop-mode dad, and I think maybe I should build you up to that."

Derek keeps an ear out for the Sheriff as he reverses out of the driveway, and rolls down his window as Stiles leans against the car, arms framed above him. "It's okay, Stiles." Derek gets that, family can be complicated. He hasn't even decided to tell Laura that he's planning to date again. If Stiles will have him, at least. "Are we- I mean, I don't want to assume, but do you want-"

"To date the hell out of you? Yes please." Stiles nods, smiling brightly. "I was beginning to think that maybe the kiss was- maybe you didn't want to, and I know that Bells is such a huge factor, but you came here today so you must want to, right? And I definitely do and I know there might be problems but my middle name is problem-solver, and I think we could work them out. And I'd..." he shakes his head, as though the thought he's thinking is repulsive "I'd never do anything to hurt either of you. No matter if we ended really awfully, which I don't think we will because I'm getting all the good vibes off of this!" He motions between them frantically and glitter floats into Derek's car. 

"Stiles," he says, more calmly and quietly than he feels, because in reality, he's pretty much the living embodiment of Stiles' frantic quick speech. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

The plaid-wearing, mole-covered fairy quirks his lips and nods once. "I would love to."

 

They never actually manage to go on a date at first, though. 

When Isabella's in school, Derek is mostly working, and even when he can get time off, the Sheriff's shifts seem to match up, so Stiles can't sneak away without explaining where he's going. 

Derek's beginning to feel a little hopeless again, when he walks into his house one Tuesday after work. 

It's 4pm and the sun is still shining, though it's quite low in the sky, and as he sets down his duffel bag he can smell pie and the entire house is basking in the warmth the oven is emitting as it cools. He heads into the kitchen and laughs as he sees Stiles set down a freshly baked apple pie. There's an apple tree branch (from an apple tree Derek is pretty sure didn't exist that morning) poking its way in through the window by the sink, and there's flour and sugar coating a few of the counters, but it's clear that Stiles has made some effort to keep them clean. 

"So, Bells is sleeping- don't ask me how I managed to play a three hour game of wolf tag with her, but I did, and she's officially tuckered out. I baked this pie, I put away all my case files and I have unplugged your landline. All you have to do is turn off your phone, sit down, and eat this pie with me, and it can be our first date."

It's delivered with a lot of confidence, but Derek can read Stiles a little better now. He can see the tiny lines of worry under his eyes, the way he's shifted to favour his left side which means he really did over-exert himself when running about with Izzy, and his trousers are more flour than pants, but he looks so at home in Derek's kitchen, that Derek forgoes the pie completely, striding around the table to kiss his boyfriend. 

It's hard and passionate and there's a little bit of teeth, the sort of passion Derek could only get with Jennifer if they were both drunk and annoyed. But there's no anger here, just the tantalising smell of Stiles' desperation and Derek's desire. Stiles' flour-covered fingers are leaving powdery trails down Derek's cheeks, and after a few minutes of intoxicating kissing, Derek slides his hands down to the swell of Stiles' ass.

He's stepped over the line, and by Stiles' moan, it's okay. 

It had been so awkward with Jennifer the first time, unsure of what to do, and her lack of any sort of response hadn't been much guidance. Now, Derek follows his instincts, and he hoists Stiles up onto the counter, hands on his thigh, squeezing possessively, a little experimentally and sure enough, Stiles groans louder. 

"Your hands," he breathes, hooking his legs tight around Derek's waist and pulling them together "I live for your hands. Your hands are my religion."

Derek laughs, and Stiles catches the sound with his lips. 

And it's not that Derek doesn't appreciate Stiles' ever present mantra of how  _totally ripped_ Derek is, as his nails scratch hotly down his abs, but he'd rather get his  _godly_ hands all over Stiles' chest. He must say as much aloud, because Stiles chuckles delightedly, pulling Derek impossibly closer. 

That gives Derek an unrestricted view and access to Stiles' long, open neck. 

He's not ashamed to say that he pretty much attacks it. Each hickey is more pleasing than the last and soon there's a neat trail up to behind Stiles' ear. Stiles' reactions make it so much hotter, whenever he nips at the spot just above his collarbone- Stiles' wings flicker into existence for a moment, controlling slipping completely. And Derek feels unbearably smug because _he's_ doing that. The fairy is moaning incoherently now, breath tickling Derek's ear as he yanks pleasurably at the werewolf's hair. 

"Shirt," he whispers, and Stiles nods jerkily, lifting his arms-

and then they hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the stairs. 

They leap away from each other, trying to smooth their hair and clothes as Stiles curses the fact that werewolf children don't get sore muscles, but Derek has flour on his face and Stiles' neck is glistening with Derek's saliva in the kitchen light and they barley look presentable.

"Stiles, is daddy home?" Izzy's voice calls from the top of the stairs, but she thankfully doesn't come down. 

"Yeah, sweetie," Stiles calls back, voice a little hoarse. "We've got pie, why don't you get your pie-shoes and we can all eat some."

"Yay! Pie! Okay!" And she's scampering back into her room.

The two adults look at each other for a moment, before dissolving into laughter. Derek brushes flour off his cheek as Stiles wipes his neck with his sleeve. "Dude," he laughs, breathless and excited "I love her, but your daughter is such a boner killer." He brushes some sugar off his trousers and it puffs into the air making them cough. They spend a few moments getting back to a semi-decent standard of dress. "But that was hot." Stiles concludes, eyeing Derek's torso as though he can see the muscles through his grey t-shirt "more of that please."

Derek smiles at the ground shyly. "I'd like that too."

Isabella races down the stairs in her blue trainers and plants a kiss on her daddy's cheek. The three of them then proceed to eat three huge portions of pie, and each discuss their days. They laugh and they joke and they all do the washing up and drying, breaking into song every now and then, and when they're almost done- Derek rinsing the sink, Isabella placing away the last of the cutlery, Stiles cocks his head. "I think this counts." He says, and they both look at him curiously for breaking the moment of peaceful silence. "As a date. Eating pie with my wolves, washing the dishes and singing High School Musical. It definitely counts as a date."

The older werewolf beams, and Isabella nods emphatically. "That's the  _perfect_ date." She decrees, pie smudged around her mouth. 

Not all their dates are like that. They manage to go out to dinner a few times, see movies or takes long walks, but some of the best ones happen without planning. With the three of them playing barbies in the garden, or Stiles' spontaneous plant-transport trips to beaches and mountains and one time the grand canyon (which Izzy had unceremoniously dubbed: just a big hole). 

Some of Derek's favourites happen closer to home though. In the garden on a picnic blanket in the middle of the night, with Stiles tucked into his side and the sound of his daughter snoring upstairs; the stars glowing endlessly above them next to the bright, approving shine of the moon. 

**Author's Note:**

> GUYSSSS
> 
> Yeah yeah I know, I say it a lot, but I just love you so much!!!!! 
> 
> AND *drum roll* its time for fun interacting time! 
> 
> I'd love to be able to write a fic in this series where they have a little bit of a tiff, or a fight, but I just can't think of anything. I want it to be big enough to warrant reason for yelling, but not so big that it can't be fixed. I never seem to be able to find one in the middle XD So that is my quest!
> 
> And he that manages to pull the fic sword out of the writes block stone, shall be king! 
> 
> So yes, I love you, I love your prompts, I think you're all fantastic so please never stop being you! 
> 
> MWAH MWAH 
> 
> x


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